The Writing on the Wall
by redchicken888
Summary: Mustang receives a assignment from the military, but why did they pick him? And what are those scratches in the walls? Oneshot, COMPLETE


**The Writing on the Wall**

**Oneshot**

**I am sooooo sorry to all of the wonderful people who are waiting for an update to No Lying Allowed or After the Storm. I PROMISE, I will update them soon! Assignments are coming in heavy from school, and my time is limited. I have NOT abandoned those stories!**

**Enjoy the awesomeness, and please review!**

Roy Mustang didn't like the job he was doing; it was nasty, smelly, dusty, and definitely spooky. Not to mention dark. He squinted in the low light and coughed as a poof of dust went down the wrong way. Eyes watering, he scanned the room he was currently investigating.

It had been a long time since another person had occupied this living room. His black boots left tracks in the soft, thick layer of dirt that covered the faded carpet, and torn cobwebs hung over the shadowy corners of the room. The discolored red couches were ruined by ten year's worth of grime. An old-house smell made him want to sneeze and sneeze until his nose fell off.

And the worst part about it? He wasn't allowed to bring his spark gloves; there was a high chance something old and dusty would catch fire. He narrowed his eyes.

He would definitely agree that this was an old house.

He had a job to do, though. The only reason why he was in this old dump was because the military wanted to demo the house into rubble and use the property for new buildings. Someone had to go inspect the house to make sure there wasn't anything valuable or dangerous inside the dwelling. Nevertheless, Roy had no idea why they sent him. General Grumman could've sent any of his subordinates, but he just _had _to pick Mustang. Roy reckoned that the old geezer was pulling a joke on him. He scowled.

But as mentioned earlier, he had a job to do. Groaning in silent protest, Roy began searching the house.

There was a full three floors to investigate, not including the basement. He started by looking through the living room he was currently in. He found nothing except for some old, cracked china plates hanging on the wall. While some people might want to buy antiques, the military had no use for china. Roy ignored them.

Before he was about to move on, Roy noticed something curious. There was three parallel gouge marks scratched in the wall. They were just below his knee level. Roy cocked his head and stared at them for a minute, but he decided to leave them and continue his search.

In other rooms, he noticed upturned vases, haphazardly placed photos, additional scratch marks – some of them crossed, some aligned to each other. A few even looked fresh. Roy started to get worried that something else might've been in the house recently. He made a mental note to report this.

By the time he had finished all three floors a full hour had already passed. After all, it was a big house. Roy sighed inwardly and gazed down the basement steps, which faded into the darkness the farther down they went. Cautiously, he felt for the first step with the toe of his black boot.

A loud bang coming from upstairs startled him when he put his foot on the first step. He jumped in surprise and nearly lost his balance. Gasping, he stared wildly around him. Roy shouted, "Who's there?"

No one answered. Uneasily, he peered around for a minute. The absence of any more noises encouraged him to once again start down the steps.

He felt for the wall switch by dragging one pale hand down the side of the stairs. Roy contacted it about halfway down the steps. Somewhat relieved, he turned it on.

A pool of light came from a single light bulb in the middle of the basement. The soft glow was cast upon piles of dusty boxes, rows of filing cabinets, an ancient desk, chairs, and other typical basement clutter. A soft _drip, drip_ came from a leaking pipe in the corner, and the old-house smell was stronger here. Roy fought the urge to cough.

He began looking through the objects littering the floor. Roy made his way through the old desk and a stack of boxes. Crossing the room, he began to look there. He had his head buried in some cabinet files when another loud _bang_ resounded through the floor.

Mustang hit his head on a box as he shot up. His heart began pounding in trepidation and fear. He wouldn't admit it later, but at that moment, cold fingers of panic began closing around his heart.

"Hello?" He called out.

He got no response. He was about to turn around again and continue searching when, with a _click,_ the light turned off.

Mustang lost all of his composure. He gave out a squeak of terror and froze. Onyx eyes wide in dread, he began shuffling towards where he presumed the stairs were, in hopes of finding the light switch. A loud _scraaaaatch _sound from behind him caused him to trip over the desk he had searched before.

"Ouch!" He yelled. He got up and began hobbling to the stairs; he now knew where he was. More scratching sounds accompanied the first behind him. His mind was whirling as he tried to puzzle out what it was. A ghost? A poltergeist? What was it?

He reached the light switch just as the scratching noises stopped. In a panic, Roy switched it on and peered around the room in terror. He would see what it was, then flee from this house and never come back.

Not a paper had been overturned. Not a speck of dust was touched. The only thing that had been changed was the far wall across the room. It now had several long, deep scratches that hadn't previously been there.

His eyes widened as he read the writing on the wall:

LeAvE NOw!

He covered his mouth in horror and backed away, trembling. Frightened beyond anything he had ever seen in his life, even Ishbal, he sprinted from the house, vowing never to return.

o0o

"Well? How did it go?" General Grumman asked in his usual jovial way.

Roy Mustang stood before him; white-faced, wide-eyed, and wearing a slightly crazy look.

"….Alright, sir," he said in a small voice. "Nothing to report."

"Good, good," the general said. "You are dismissed."

o0o

Walking stiffly, Mustang headed to his office in a mechanical way, hoping nothing else even remotely crazy would happen that day.

When he arrived, Hawkeye took a close look at his face and asked slowly, "Sir? Are you alright?"

Roy, not looking up, said, "Fine, just fine."

END

**Did you like it? This oneshot was inspired by the title. My older sister, Naomi, had to write a story with the theme, "The Writing on the Wall," and when she told me about it, I had this brilliant idea and just HAD to write. :D **

**Au revior!**


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